True Last Words
by dessideriium
Summary: AU. Hohenheim receives an alarming letter threatening his dream of living a normal life with the family he left behind.


_'I'm going. Please wait for me.'_

Startled, the old man opened his eyes. The first thing he heard after waking up was the fluttering from the morning birds' wings. He was sweating cold, and his breathing was uneven.

He looked around himself in a desperate need to know that what he had just witnessed wasn't real. The landscape around him had changed. Light blue sky and chirping birds, the wind blowing brought to him the scent of the trees surrounding him. A beautiful first blush of the morning greeted him. He was still leaning against the same log that he had chosen the night before, and for a few more nights to come, to be his bed and pillow. He still carried the same clothes with which he left on that day, the same suitcase; everything was in its place. The old man let out a sigh of relief.

_Just a dream, _he told himself. He stood up grunting a little bit for his bones weren't what they used to be. He stared once again at the beautiful sunrise, filled his lungs with lots of air for the day ahead of him and picked his suitcase. He was now ready for whatever this day brought onto him.

As he walked out of the forest and into the closest town, his mind filled with images from the dream he had. In it, he was reliving his last words with Trisha. He told her that he didn't want to be a monster anymore. He didn't want to settle with a life where he watched every human being that he ever cared about die in front of his eyes, knowing that his time to reunite with them will never come. He didn't want to watch the most important people in his life right now to die, knowing he would have to move on for another hundreds of centuries without them. His previous way of seeing the universe, the one that made him accept this eternal life— he didn't want it anymore. He had changed his mind. He wanted to age with his wife and kids.

Since he left, every once in a while he was tormented with guilty dreams about Trisha and the kids, the last thing he said to her, the way he looked at them before leaving. This dream had been one of those. When the first dream came to him, it took him a lot of willpower to make him not come back home running. The truth was that, he was scared of those dreams. But not because of the guilt they brought, seeing his wife and kids in dreams was better than not seeing them at all. His true fear laid in the fact that the dreams felt all too real. Too real to the point where it was hard for him to distinguish reality anymore and there was a part of him that desperately wanted them to be real.

But at the same time, he didn't want to want the dreams to be real. At least not right now. He knew that if those dreams were to be real even for a second, everything he had done so far would be meaningless. Finding a way to change his body to age with Trisha and be a proper father to his kids was his dream. Wanting to go back right now; wanting to be with his wife and kids right now— it couldn't be. For the sake of his dream he must not turn around and continue searching.

He kept walking on and on to get out of the forest and to the closest town. Something in his stomach told him it was time for breakfast and the scent of fresh bread told him he was getting closer to the food. He ended up going in a bakery nearby. He placed himself in line. The scent of the food waiting for him was exquisite, and he was behind two ladies to get it.

As he waited, it felt as if someone else has taken a place behind him, which caused him to unconsciously turn around. The person wore a black uniform and black hat. A military policeman. He established eye contact with him so he greeted the man with a slight bow. The policemen did the same thing too. He turned around and proceeded to continue waiting in line.

"Hold up. By any reason, is your name Van Hohenheim?" the man said out of the blue.

He turned around completely and calmly responded, "Yes."

The officer cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. "We have received a letter marked as urgent to Mr. Van Hohenheim, from a person named Edward Elric, sir."

Hohenheim's eyes widened in surprise at the mention of the sender.

"If you'd be so kind to come with me to our offices to deliver you such letter."

He nodded and had the officer escort him out the bakery.

The gentle policeman introduced himself as the Officer Bäcker. According to him, several police stations and even the Central headquarters had received various letters a couple weeks ago; all from the same person; all requesting to find Van Hohenheim.

It had been almost ten years since he last heard that name. Naturally, he wondered why the son he left behind was looking for him right now specifically. So he asked the policeman whether he knew the contents of said letter. The man replied that the letter was in possession of the chief unit. The only knowledge he had of it, was that it had something to do with the village of Resembool.

"We've been looking quite a while for you, Mr. It was real luck what caused me to run into you."

Hohenheim grew quite concerned of it but he tried to remain calm. He hadn't read his son's letter yet. If there was something that living for a couple of centuries had taught him was to remain calm until he had a reason not to. Soon they would get to the police station, he would receive the letter and see for himself, if to panic or not.

The police station wasn't very crowded, which made Hohenheim glad because it meant he didn't have to wait much for the chief unit. While waiting, he overheard the few people there talking about how things were quite calm here in South City. Soon enough, the policeman came accompanied by a much taller man. The way he walked was very stiffly, yet he didn't have the kind of mien of a severe man. Besides him, the policeman that escorted him here tried his best to walk like his superior. Hohenheim saw no trace whatsoever of a letter.

"Mr. Van Hohenheim," the police officer shook Hohenheim's hand. On his name plate read 'Ward'. Chief Officer Ward. "You're here for this, aren't you?" He took the letter out of his pocket and handed it to him. "We were starting to think you were never going to show up for it."

"Thank you," he said calmly, more calmly than he expected. His insides were trembling a little. Fortunately for him, he had learned how to control himself in front of other people. Unconsciously trying to delay the truth for a few seconds, he began to examine the letters written in the envelope. His name was right in the middle and his son's name was in the upper left corner next to the town where it came from; all written in such a graceful handwriting. Then he turned it around, but didn't open it yet. He shot the officers a questioning look instead.

"How long it's been since it got here?" he asked

"Around a month, sir." Chief Ward answered immediately.

He took one deep breath after realizing that he couldn't hold back this moment any longer. When he finally opened the letter, his heart dropped down to his feet and his hands started to tremble as he tried to assimilate each and every one of his son's words, but he managed to regain control. When he finished reading the letter, he didn't believe it. So he read it a second time. And then a third time. The more he read it, the more he prayed with all his might that this was just another one of his guilty nightmares. He prayed that soon, something, anything, would wake him up and he'd find himself leaning against the same log.

But soon, he realized that there was no dream to wake up from. There was only one thing he could do now, he told himself as he let out a deep sigh and placed the letter back in its envelope.

"I've got to go." he whispered, but the two officers weren't in sight. His fist was clenched around the letter as he found his way out the door.

"Mr. Hohenheim," a voice called out before he left. He turned around. "After you're finished with your issues in Resembool, it would be of great help if you could come and help us with some cases, wouldn't it?" the chief officer said.

He didn't have time for this, he thought to himself. He needed to get to Resembool as soon as possible. Since he left his home, he had turned into a person difficult to track down, but it was no lie to say that he was one good alchemist, known by important and influential people, who could come in handy with the cases Officer Ward talked about. But right now, his mind could only focus on the family he had left behind and how important it was to him to get to them immediately. So to answer his question, he quickly replied that he would think about it once he'd get back. After that, no one else said anything, so he took it as his cue that he was free to leave.

His next stop was the train station. He looked on the board at what time did the next train for East City leave. East City was the closest place where he could get a train to Resembool since it was a small town and trains that got you there were scarce unless you were taking a train from one of the cities connected to it. The closest place next to East City was Resembool.

The board said that the next train for East City left in one hour. He let out a sigh of relief. At least he didn't have to wait as long as he thought. Right now he wasn't in a position where he could think clearly. All that mattered to him right now was to get to Resembool. If there were a machine faster than a train that would take him there in less time, he would take it without hesitating.

Anyhow, he recalled, a train from South city to East city would take around a day, and then the ride from East City to Resembool took two hours, if he wasn't mistaken. In any case, all he could do for now was to wait. Wait for the train; then wait for the next train; wait to see the kids he left behind almost ten years ago, and wait to see his dying wife.

As he waited and waited, the man buried his face in his hands. In his mind He went through the content of the letter dozens of times. In it, Edward Elric formally requested the aid of any military officer who've ever came in contact with Van Hohenheim to pass an urgent message onto him. He mentioned a woman by the name of Trisha Elric, seriously ill, in desperate need of his abilities in medical alchemy; yet he didn't mention any relationship of them with the man. He never got to know the type of person his oldest son had become but he now knew that he didn't want him there only for his presence.

Then it hit him. He would see his sons again. His mind stopped thinking about the person waiting for him and it shifted to the two blond kids. He thought again of the dream he had that same morning and his mind became full of images of the two kids and their confused stare as he left on that day. Back then, he didn't say goodbye because if he had, his departure was going to be a hundred times more difficult. He had thought that if he didn't say anything, if he looked at them like he hated them, they wouldn't miss him at all. That's right. That's why he did it. He didn't want to be missed. He didn't want anyone to stop him.

But of course, he didn't see this one coming, having to reunite once again with them. He was going to have one day approximately. One day to think about his past; about his family; about what to say to his children, how to explain to them that he didn't hate them and that the reason he left was to be able to die with them. He had one day to think about how to save his wife from death.

_But, _his train of thought came to a stop. Would he be able to heal her? Was he able of facing his kids, telling them he really cared about them— just to leave them again? If things don't go as expected, would he have to shoot at them that look full of hatred again? The first time wasn't easy and doing it one more time now that they're fully aware of what's around them was going to be a lot harder. The thought of explaining them his reasons for leaving crossed his minds more than once, but he didn't know what kind of feelings they had towards him—They probably wouldn't understand it, at least not like Trisha did.

Then again, his thoughts went back to Trisha. The letter didn't specify what kind of illness she had. The thought of not knowing sent shivers down his spine and caused him to anxiously tap his foot against the ground. Even if his philosopher's stone could do almost anything, he wanted to know how his wife had contracted that disease; how long she had been suffering like this, how much time passed before Edward decided to seek for his help; how advanced her disease was. Dozens of questions filled his mind, but even when he didn't know any details at all, the one true thing he wanted more than anything was to be by her side, hold her hand one more time and see that smile of hers.

It had always been her, he left because he wanted to die with her; every step forward in his investigation made him think of her, of how he was one step closer to being with her and now he was coming back after almost ten years because of her.

By now, it seemed like he had sighed a million times and the train still hadn't arrived. He thought of checking the train station's clock on the wall, but declined on the idea. There would be plenty of time to check the time during his day on board of the train, he told himself.

—

The old man crossed the threshold of the train station, finally leading him to the city of Resembool. Both trains took more than a day in taking him here. During the past years, he had lost the habit of taking long train rides. He did nothing but to stare at the landscape, which at times like this it didn't do much to relieve his growing anxiety. The seats were hard-as-rock, and, he was all, alone with his thoughts. During the day, he only read, but not even ten minutes passed before his mind drifted to his dying wife and his kids, probably panicking because they had no idea of what they could do. And during the night, he tried to sleep but the uncomfortable seats and his fear didn't allow him a good sleep. That was why during his journeys he walked most of the time.

The moment he crossed the threshold, the sun was setting. Now all he had to was walk, and walk, and walk; until he reached the house standing atop of the prairie.

He stood now in front of his old door. He felt his right hand, which was holding the doorknob, slightly shaking and his heart beating hastily. Then he realized that he hadn't lived here for many years, so he couldn't just open the door like it was nothing. He removed his hand from the doorknob and, still shaking, he knocked on the door.

When the door opened he saw a small figure who looked at him just as amazed as he was.

"Hohenheim!" Pinako gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"I got Edward's letter. May I?"

She stepped aside to let him in. "I didn't know Edward sent a letter. And even still, it took you quite a while"

He didn't want to acknowledge that as true as it was; at least, not right now. "How is Trisha doing?" he finally asked.

She lowered her head. "She's been asking for you in her sleep." she said. "I don't think there's much time left. You should see her."

She guided him to a room, Trisha's room. The door was open and revealed two blond figures standing next to a bed with someone lying in it.

"Trisha!"

Without thinking, he rushed over to his wife's side, kneeled on the floor next to her bed and cupped her left hand with both of his hands. Her hand looked really small and frail inside his. But it was still warm. His exalted heart managed to calm a little bit with that warmth. Then those years he had spent travelling turned to nothing now that he was by her side. Across her bed, their two sons held her right hand. He took slight notice of his kids' faces staring at him open-mouthed, but they didn't say anything. He didn't say anything either. Right now, he could only stare at his wife, panting to hold on to life and tired from all the fighting, as guilt took over his heart for all the time lost.

"Trisha, I'll—"

He wanted to say how he could save her right in this instant; that he didn't care if the people in this room saw him use the power of his philosopher's stone if it meant saving her and then apologizing not only to her but to his kids and also to Pinako, and hope that they'd accept what he had to say.

"Dear," she spoke weakly. It seemed like she had been blinded and was only relying on her ears to confirm his presence.

"It seems...I'm going first." she forced a weak smile; the one that managed to melt his heart.

"Trisha!" He tried not holding too hard on her hand, but, he wished there was something else he could do to suppress how he was feeling inside._ I'm going first_, she meant—

Before he could say anything, his eyes widened as he stared in horror at her face and how he slowly felt the warmth slip away from her hand and the color to flush away from her skin. Stunned, he slowly let go of her hand, staring at it in disbelief as the tears began to flow from his eyes. He gulped as if trying to swallow those tears back because he still didn't want to believe it. He had just gotten here!

Then it began all over again, it was as if time had frozen and his heart and lungs suddenly stopped working. He felt scared; scared because yet another person had died in front of him before he could have done anything. If only, he began blaming himself, if only he had been here a day sooner, not even a day, an hour sooner; she would have hold on less time. She would have suffered less. He saw his live hand next to her dead one and his lip started trembling. He looked up at her face and saw the hint of a smile on her lips. A face like that didn't belong to the realm of the dead.

He finally looked away from it to let the tears flow like they were supposed to and let himself believe the truth.

Later, he realized that he wasn't alone in the room and that he wasn't the only one suffering for Trisha's death. There were four more people in the room: his sons, Pinako, and a little blonde girl next to her, presumably the Rockbell's daughter. They all had their heads down, the little girl had her face buried down in Pinako's arm and Pinako's stare fixated on the ground, clenching her first pretty hard. Next to Trisha, Edward had his face buried in the bed next to Trisha's body and Alphonse had his head buried in Edward's arm. He knew they were crying, their shoulders moved nervously, yet they were being very quiet.

Feeling like he had shed enough tears already, he stood up from the ground to talk to his sons. Now's the time, he thought, to say the words he had searched for an entire day, but never found.

"Edward, Alphonse, my sons," they slowly raised their heads and looked at him intriguingly. The words that still hadn't reached his mind; he took a deep breath to finally let them out. "I'm sorry."

For seconds, the three of them only stared at each other. It seemed no one knew exactly what to say, and even then, at times like these the most fitting words are impossible to find. In the end, he could only apologize and with his eyes and poor selection of words, let his sons knew not only that he was sorry for leaving them and Trisha, but that he deeply cared about them.

Then without any warning, Edward stood up from his chair and looked at him straight in the eyes.

"And what are you _apologizing _for? Is it for abandoning us? Is it for keeping her waiting for _years_ so that _you_ could see _her_ for one last time? Or is it because you couldn't save her like you were supposed to? What is it you're sorry for!? _NOTHING! _I don't _ever_ want to see you again." he snarled and stormed out of the room. Alphonse stood for a few seconds astounded at Edward's words, subsequently following him out.

'_Was this how his oldest son has been feeling all these years?_' It was all he could think as he stood dumbfounded at his son's harsh words. He really did hate him.

"Winry, go see how they're doing," he heard Pinako say to the little girl. "Are you all right?" she asked and patted his back.

He let out a deep sigh. "He just showed a side of himself I didn't expect to see"

"Maybe. But right now he's mostly angry. The three of them suffered for far too long. Right now it's probably best to leave them alone." she said. "How long has it been since Edward sent that letter?"

"At the station where I got it they said it had been a month."

"According to the doctors, the symptoms got worse around three months ago. But they said it's something she's been holding on for several years."

"On that letter, Edward requested my help. But in the end, I couldn't do anything to help her." he confessed.

He turned around to look at her. _Trisha..._He knew all too well how she always hid her pain from everyone else, yet she always smiled the brightest, more than anyone he had ever met in his long life. But still, of all things, he would have never imagined she'd die because of that.

"How about the kids?" he changed the subject. "How they've been doing all this time?"

"Trisha did a good job raising them. They're quite talented alchemists too." she made a small pause. Hohenheim caught himself staring too much at Trisha's dead body. He looked away and exited the room, followed by Pinako.

"Are you staying for the funeral, Hohenheim?" she suddenly asked.

He nodded. "I promise I'll help you out, Pinako." he said. "But, I won't go."

"Huh? What do you mean you won't go?"

He didn't answer, he just kept on moving. Truth was that he wanted to be alone for a while to have the chance to grief his wife properly. Behind him, he heard Pinako closing the door to Trisha's room.

The next day he helped Pinako out with all the preparations necessary around noon and helped set a bunch of chairs at the place where the wake was going to be. It was an outdoor place near the cemetery surrounded with trees, ideal to protect everyone else from the sun at that time. Once everything was ready, Pinako asked him one more time to reconsider going to the funeral. He only replied that he was intending to watch the whole thing from afar.

It all started around 4 o'clock. Hohenheim had placed a fair distance between himself and that place. Still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, he watched dozens of people in black attires arrive and take their seats. Many of them were people he knew from his time here, but many faces were new; from old men and women to people in their teens. If he ever felt that any of them might be looking at him, he quickly hid away. The reason behind him desisting to go to the funeral was because he didn't want to encounter anyone and then be flooded with questions that he might not be able to answer the way _they_ expected. When he left, countless of rumors must have spread around about his incompetence as both a husband and a father. And right now, he wasn't really up for more self-punishment.

Eventually, Pinako arrived accompanied by Edward and Alphonse and the young girl from yesterday. Pinako had told him that she was her granddaughter, Winry, and that both Sara and Urey had passed away assisting in the war of Ishbal. She had set up that Trisha was buried close to where their graves were.

Lastly, a priest arrived to the scene carrying a little book in his hand and began the ceremony. Everyone was quiet and the only person who spoke was the priest, reading passages from his book and most recounting how now she was in a better place. By now, he had learned all the things people said at funerals. How unfair it was when death took a young soul; how kind it was when it took a soul in pain; and how they we all, no matter their race, age, gender, ended up in the same place, a better place. They offered a moment of silence to the deceased and prayed that their familiars' wounds are able to heal.

During the ceremony, most people were still, their eyes fixated on the coffin ahead and attentively listening to the priest's words. There were others who held a piece of paper against their eyes and nose. He recognized some of crying people as Trisha's friends; he even remembered some names. Sitting at the front were Edward, Alphonse, Pinako and the Rockbell's daughter. He caught sight of his youngest son immersed in tears during most of the ceremony. Pinako also let out a couple of tears but, as usual, tried to be strong for at the time she had three kids to watch over. She dried her tears with one hand and had her other arm around her granddaughter who had her head buried in Pinako's chest. Edward's reaction was different from the others. Most of the time he had only stared at the floor as if to avoid completely the presence of Trisha's coffin, holding up a stare full of disappointment without any trace of tears in his eyes.

Wakes and funerals are meant to say goodbye to the person who's no longer here. But he wasn't ready to let go of her just yet. Every day during his journey for mortality and whenever it felt too hard or painful to keep going, all he had to do was to remember Trisha's smile. From the moment they first met, that smile caused him to get clumsy and lose his cool around her. With time, it turned into the smile of a person with whom you felt like you could tell all your worries to and they would understand and give comfort. Aside from that smile, he was a very lonely man; fool enough to not form any bonds with his kids, to think that his monstrosity would rub onto them.

By now, he was starting to feel a pain in his chest, as if his heart had suddenly gone crazy. In hundreds of years, the first and only woman he had ever loved was now gone. And he had to believe it; believe that this time, _she _had left _him_. Except there was no promise of coming back. Just a broken promise. Tears came out of his eyes one more time.

"So this is what you must have felt back then." he muttered. "Trisha, I'm such a fool."

When the sun was setting, he prepared himself to visit Trisha one last time. He walked towards her grave but found his sons still there. The thought of saying goodbye, the three of them, crossed his mind, but he desisted of it and turned back as silently as possible.

He walked around without a certain destination; until he found a decent tree and made it his place of rest for now. What he wanted the most right now was to properly say goodbye to Trisha. He had to wait though. He would say things only she would understand and cry tears only for her to see. So there, on that tree he waited. He waited, and, he fell asleep, and in his dreams Trisha lived again, she smiled again. And in his dreams he apologized for everything.

When he opened his eyes again, it was the middle of the night; midnight, according to his watch. It felt weird because during all this time he had grown used to waking up in strange places, surrounded by wilderness and foreignness, and this time he knew where he was right away. Drowsily, he stood up and headed over to the cemetery. _One final goodbye, one final apology_, he kept on thinking on his way there.

A single tombstone, no different than the other ones surrounding it, stood there in front of him with the name of 'Trisha Elric'. He placed one hand on it and got on one knee.

"Trisha, are you listening?" he asked.

Obviously, he didn't expect a response. He sighed and sat with his legs crossed in front of her grave.

"Can you believe I'm back home after such a long time? Heh...I don't. Edward was the one who sent me the letter to come. He did it for you, you know? He and Alphonse must have known you wanted to see me and so they called me." He paused for a few seconds. "They're all grown up. It felt like waking up from a dream; seeing my sons as babies and the next moment they already do all this kinds of things by themselves, like alchemy and sending letters to the military headquarters." He let out a small laugh.

Suddenly, his heart started pounding nervously "Do you think they will forgive me? I'm scared that they won't." he trailed off. "I am sorry, Trisha, but I— I just want to know...If you could forgive me..." He rubbed his eyes and fell quiet for some minutes. As his heart kept on beating nervously, he ran out of things to say. Back then he never ran out of things to say. There's a big difference now, though.

"I'll have to leave them again, our kids." he turned serious. "Something has happened, and, I— I'll have to make it up to them once it's all over. Hopefully, they will have grown like you and accept to take me back in their lives once this is all over." he said half smiling.

"Trisha, I promise you I'll find a way to still find you, and get rid of this curse."

Those were his last words to her; with that, he left. Close to her grave rested the tombs of Sara and Urey Rockbell. He didn't know them all too well, but they were Trisha's close friends. She must have suffered a lot when they left, watching them promising their baby daughter they'd come back, and then being witness of how that promise couldn't come true. He paid his respects to the Rockbells, and, without looking back, he finally left Resembool.

"It'll be another _awfully _uncomfortable train ride." he muttered to himself, already fearing for his back.

—

Two blond figures stood in front of a tombstone with a beautiful, yet tragic sunset behind them. The smaller one held his knees closer and closer to his chest. The only thought in his head was that he wanted to escape this reality as soon as possible and go back in time. The tallest figure just stood there, staring at the tombstone's name, Trisha Elric, with a mix of sadness, hate and disappointment. They hadn't said absolutely anything in the entire day and had been there for hours. Soon, night would fall, and, they'd freeze themselves, even if wearing those black suits.

They stood there for a few more hours, still not saying a word; both of them immersed in their own little world inside their heads and not wanting to be snapped out of there.

"Al, we're going to bring her back."

**A/N:** Well, at first this was going to be a father's day shot, since the idea came to me on father's day and all that stuff. And second, this is supposed to be more brotherhood!verse since Hohenheim knew he had to leave to stop father and a few lines are directly from the anime but they fit so well asdfghjjh and of course, the little epilogue to set things back on track.


End file.
